


Foxglove Crown

by orchidbreezefc



Category: New X-Men: Academy X, Wolverine and the X-Men (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, crackship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evan has a crush on someone at the school, and it's not the first person you might think. It might not even be the fifth person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foxglove Crown

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, [this post](http://orchidbreezefc.tumblr.com/post/138007500095/) more or less explains the story here; basically, Indra and Genesis are connected in the Young Avengers chart of heroes calling each other, so I decided they would make a cute ship! And how. They're both very shy, sweet, sensitive boys, and very compatible as far as crack ships go.
> 
> Warning for mentions of M-Day, and the child death that happened on and around it.

Evan’s met a lot of attractive mutants in his time at the Jean Grey School--the non-mutants he's met of course are not really much of prospects, largely being virtual reality or long distance or both. 

But here there’s Idie, who has the most stunning case of heterochromia Evan's ever seen, and he’s sure he would feel the same if he actually knew anyone else with heterochromia. There’s Angel, who is absolutely breathtaking but much too old of course. There's even Quentin Quire, who is pretty good-looking, Evan supposes, you know, if you go for that sort of thing, which he's not saying he does.

It took a while for Evan to so much as see everyone in the school at any rate, so he was here for a couple days before catching a glimpse of the most beautiful mutant he’s ever seen at lunch.

“Who’s that?" he urgently asks Quentin (who had effectively attached himself to Evan, and is now being used in return as a tour guide), nodding past him in the purple-skinned mutant’s direction. “The—" Is it polite to call people by skin color if they’re not a human color? "--the one in the crop top, with the flowers."

“Him?” Quentin asks disdainfully, scrunching his nose. “Indra.” He turns back from looking over his shoulder and crosses his arms, kicking his feet up on the table—Evan barely saves his lunch. “Indian kid. Shy little thing. Used to be a pacifist, but finally got with the program, y'know? Being a pacifist and a mutant kid's a fucking paradox. Like sapies aren't raring to kill us 24/7/52.”

Evan tunes the rest out, playing with his school pizza as he gazes over Quentin’s shoulder. He’s never seen anyone before with a non-human skin color--nobody he hadn’t immediately had to fight, that is. Indra's color is so deep and rich, too, a lovely royal purple with lavender streaks on his face and brilliant ginger hair on his head and stomach.

Finally, someone who will understand what it’s like being visibly different. Maybe they have similar powersets. Evan can understand being forced into fighting, which is what it sounds like for Indra. They might have a lot to talk about, which is of course the main reason Evan finds himself interested in the other boy, and not at all because the cut of his jaw makes his stomach do backflips.

It's an eventful couple weeks before Evan and Paras—Indra's actual name, Evan knows by then--first speak. Evan has been planning what to say all that time, but when he clears his throat to speak and Paras turns to him, he's too surprised to say anything but, “You--you have red eyes."

“Yes?” Paras says, politely confused.

“I mean, it's just, me too. I’ve never met anybody with eyes like mine before."

Paras tilts his head contemplatively. “They’re not _just_ like yours. Yours are more scarlet where mine are more crimson. They go with my hair, see?" He ruffles his hair and smiles. His accent makes Evan's knees go weak.

Genesis just does his best to smile back and nod, and then Indra is whisked off by his friends. Evan wants to kick himself for not doing better, but really he's just stuck on that smile.

Time goes on, and Evan finds himself in his own friend group with Idie, Quentin, Iara, Jia, and Trevor--kids from his own class, whereas Paras is apparently from the class above them, though not much older at all.

They don't manage to meet again before Evan's life has been turned upside down, between the World and the clone thing. And then Evan realizes why it has been so much easier to connect with the newer, younger mutants; they have no background of fear of Apocalypse (except Quentin, who merely thinks the connection is cool).

The older kids, except perhaps for Hellion, don't seem to have a problem with him so much as they give him a wide berth, but it’s still rather effectively discouraging from making friends in their group. Evan isn’t too outgoing anyway, so he should just appreciate the friends he has managed to make.

It's just that Paras says the most insightful things about the books they read in English class, and has such long bright orange eyelashes.

Evan’s given up mostly by the next time they meet, something as silly as it is unexpected—Rockslide is roughhousing with Indra, in full defensive armor, and shoves him into Evan, and then runs (stomps) away cackling before either of them can react other than righting themselves. “Santo!” Paras shouts after him irritably, and Evan’s heart is pounding in his ears too much to hear the reply Santo calls over his shoulder.

Paras turns to Evan apologetically and his armor dissipates into thin air. "I’m so sorry. Santo’s a jerk, and has some idea about you being—never mind. I’m Paras. It’s Evan, right?"

“Yes. Sorry."

“You don’t have to be sorry! My armor didn’t hurt you, did it?" Paras brushes off Evan’s sleeve and Evan feels he might die.

“No, I—I’m fine. I just hope this isn’t a pattern—that you haven’t had bad experiences with Apocalypses," Evan says, going for dryly funny but probably coming off more as pathetically forlorn.

Paras examines him closely. "No," he answers thoughtfully. "Why do you call yourself that? Don’t you have some other codename? I thought it was Julian or Quire to come up with the Kid Apocalypse thing."

“It was," Evan says, somewhat startled. “I mean—I—Genesis. Is my name."

“Oh," Paras says in interest. “A Biblical reference. I read the New Testament once. I wanted to read the whole thing, but that chapter—Genesis—has all those family lines, and such."

“You read the Bible? Aren’t you—?"

“Jain," Paras says, frowning. “Lapsed. Pacifism, I’ve found, is—well, complicated." His eyes have gone dark, but brighten up when he switches topics again. “There are so many Bible references in Western literature. It’s fascinating."

Evan is not sure how much he likes the word ‘fascinating’ for his faith, but then he thinks Paras probably gets that a hundred times more than he does. “Yeah," he says instead. “In my own personal literature, too."

“I’d imagine so,” Paras says, somehow soft. “Tied to a man who modeled himself on all that—or inspired it? I don’t know how long ago it was.” He nods, possibly to himself. “I respect that you distance yourself from all that with the codename."

“What was it like growing up under the shadow of that?" Evan finds he has to ask, voice muted with—awe maybe, he doesn’t know. “I grew up in a world without Apocalypse at all, no stories or fear or anything." No colorful mutant world, he adds mentally. No colorful mutant friends.

Paras almost seems to hear what he didn’t say, because he smiles wryly. “Beautiful," he says. “And treacherous. And terrifying.” He scratches his cheek, gazing off reflectively. “It was good, when I was a child. I was ten when I manifested—books always say you start puberty at maybe eleven to sixteen, but these days it seems it’s always so much earlier. India was India as I've always known it, which is always both for better and for worse. But America, the school, it was like a playground. So colorful, so joyful, so busy." His eyes seem to sparkle. “The mutant hatred seemed so far away—the adults took care of it, and if it ever came to the school, we had lockdowns, and we would just play cards or board games until it was over."

Evan is rapt, but that’s when Indra’s eyes go stormy. “And then M-Day," he says. “And the bus…" He shakes his head. “There were bad times. Worse times than you new kids have ever had." He catches himself and turns back to Evan, offers him a somewhat strained smile. “That is, I don’t mean to presume; I don’t know about you personally…"

“That’s all right," Evan says, almost on autopilot while his brain slowly digests. He’s heard the figures—Hellion and Surge tend to remind the kids in his class of them whenever they feel they’re getting too flippant about the threats to mutantkind. Forty-six children dead at the school in M-Day and the days after. Sons. Daughters. Friends. Children. Forty-six. Evan doesn’t even know if there were forty-six children in his year at his old school. He doesn’t even know if he knows forty-six people now.

“I was the youngest mutant alive," Paras says pensively. “We thought I'd be targeted for that. At the very least we thought I'd be the last mutant ever." He pauses to mull that over. “But things got better," he continues. He’s like a light spectrum, or the sun on a cloudy day, Evan thinks, his face and body language visibly brightening and darkening with his mood. “And things are getting better still. There are so many new mutants now. Like you!” He smiles brilliantly at Evan, whose heart stops. "It's nothing like before, of course, but still, it makes me happy."

There is a pause, mostly occupied on Evan’s side by the attempt not to pass out, then Paras shakes his head. "Anyway, you can hear this from anyone in my year. I’d like to hear about the universe where you grew up. Now that is a unique experience. Maybe we should sit?" he adds. "I know a nice place on the grounds. You have a free hour, right?"

Evan’s mind goes blank for a moment so he can’t remember, and he wracks his brain while fervently praying—but then he remembers that yes, he does. English, math, free period, then shop. He nods, not trusting himself to speak with his stomach turned completely to jelly.

Paras smiles again and leads him outside, just past the rock-skipping pond to a cluster of shade-giving trees.

"Oh," says Paras, stopping and looking around. "It didn’t have so many flowers before. And that tree wasn’t a weeping willow… Krakoa must have fixed it up since I was here last."

"It reminds me of Mary Poppins," Evan says. "You know, that scene outside at the park? There were penguins."

Paras looks at him for a moment, and then the uncertainty disappears from his face. "Yeah," he says. "I remember that. I like it! It’s nice." He steps over the flowers and goes to sit against the trunk, then scoots over and pats the spot beside him.

"So, how do you know Mary Poppins if you were raised in another universe?" Paras asks as Evan sits down.

"Oh," Evan says self-consciously. "We had some things. Fantomex made the portion of the world I lived in, so he put in stuff he knew, like some movies; and then some other stuff, like cartoons, the World took care of itself. I’ve seen all the Disney movies—well not all of them--you know, the ones that are really classic Disney, before they bought all those other companies."

Paras nods, stretching his legs out. "I watched them as a little kid like everybody else, some of them in India and some of them in the kid’s classes at Xavier’s."

"I’m catching up on the cartoons people my age watched," Evan muses, watching the flowers sway in a wind that doesn’t seem to exist. "Deadpool and I watch Spongebob."

"You know Deadpool?" Paras says. "Really?"

"He’s kind of like a stepdad, or weird uncle… or aunt," Evan admits. "I mean, since I don’t see my family anymore."

"Families," Paras says in a tone that makes Evan laugh and nod.

“Well, mine was so nice, and normal, except for Uncle Cluster. Fantomex. And now my family is just…"

“The X-Men," Paras says, nodding. “Bizarre, and wonderful. I know the feeling."

Evan looks out to the side and, to his surprise, finds a pair of red eyes sticking out of the ground and staring at him. Once he’s noticed, they wink at him and disappear. Evan does his best to ignore it.

He clears his throat, looks back at Paras and smiles weakly. “I’m afraid my childhood probably wasn’t as interesting as you think. I had a sister and a dog, I lived in Kansas—fake Kansas—I played football every day with my dad until I got on the varsity team." Evan hesitates, then figures he can disclose a little more; Paras did ask, after all. “I thought people would like me more if I was on a team," he confesses. “So I would stop being the grey kid and have a chance to be Evan. And it worked."

"Did they not like you before?" Paras asks, orange eyebrows dropping in concern.

“Well, I was just kind of—you know, like—a bit of a wallflower, honestly." Evan pulls his knees up to his chest. “They didn’t not like me, I just used to be pretty shy. Still am a bit, I guess."

"Me too," says Paras. He nudges Evan. "Hey, I like American football too. Maybe we can make our own team together and not be shy anymore." Evan can’t help smiling.

“That sounds wonderful. I still have my letterman jacket, I packed it when I came to the school. You know, this one time, my friend from the football team, Jeff was his name, he was always really—Paras?” he breaks off, noticing Paras’s eyes aren’t meeting his somehow, looking through Evan maybe.

Paras starts and looks up. “Oh! Wow, I’m sorry, I promise I’ve been listening, it’s just—“ Paras takes a breath, and then he’s meeting Evan’s eyes squarely, red and focused. “I just have been wanting to ask--could I kiss you?” he asks carefully.

Evan blinks at him, his mind processing this. “Yeah," he says, “Yeah, no shit. I mean—! Wait, I didn’t--” It’s too late. Paras has already dissolved into giggles.

“Sorry—goodness—I’m sorry, you just—I was not expecting that. I didn’t know you swore.” Paras is covering his mouth as he laughs and it’s the most adorable thing possibly in both this universe and the universe Evan’s from.

“It’s a bad habit," Evan admits sheepishly. “From Deadpool. I’m sorry, I just messed everything up, didn’t I—"

“No, no, it’s fine,” Paras insists quickly, putting his hand on Evan’s arm to reassure him. “I still want to kiss you—no, wait, wait, before I do, there’s just one thing—" Indra leans over and picks a flower and carefully threads it into Evan’s hair. “There," he declares. “Now you’re perfect.” 

Evan blinks, and they’re face-to-face, Paras’s hand coming gently to rest on the grass on the other side of Evan, he’s smiling so softly and good lord, Evan’s going to die right here. “I’m sorry, was that ‘no shit’ a ‘yes’?” Paras asks slyly. “English _is_ my second language, you know…."

“Yes," Evan breathes, and then nods quickly. “Yeah, god yes.” Paras laughs softly, and Evan doesn’t trust himself to say anything more, just lean into Paras’s enchanting smile and close his eyes. 

He can feel for a moment how Paras’s mouth curves upward. Then Indra's expression changes, minutely more serious and focused. He shifts his whole body closer, trailing the hand on the grass up to Evan's face, gently tracing the line on Evan's cheek with his thumb and moving his lips against Evan’s. It’s so nice and slow. Evan puts his arm around Paras's waist because he doesn't ever want him to pull away. And then Paras is smiling against him again and chuckling. 

“What?" Evan asks, opening his eyes and pulling back as far as he can bear, which is just enough to separate them. “Am I bad?"

“No, no, I just—“ Paras laughs. “It’s embarrassing, but I just thought of how Santo is going to be so pleased with himself. He’s been teasing me for having a crush on you and he thought pushing me into you was so funny, and now—"

“You have a crush on me?” Evan echoes, and Indra nods, pushing his hair back out of his face and turning darker in the cheeks, almost blackish. ”Wow, I’ve had--the biggest crush on you for—"

“Yeah, I noticed,” Paras says, smiling and tipping his head in the absolute most charming way possible. “It's cute.”

"Oh," says Evan in a small voice. "Okay. Great."

"Don't be embarrassed! It made me like you. Because it's so adorable when you blush like this." Paras leans in closer; the hand he's not leaning onto finds Evan’s cheek. “You’d look even cuter if I could make a whole flower crown—but you don’t mind waiting so we can kiss some more first, do you?"

Evan doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> [This post](http://samanthatwilson.tumblr.com/post/138425850501) was partially inspired by my idea of flower crowns, so I was reverse inspired by _that_ post and had to work flower crowns back into this. :P 
> 
> I'm just glad everyone has been showing so much love for Indra lately! He's a huge cutie.


End file.
